


Milkshakes '51

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Iris is tired of this, Jukeboxes, Time Travel, can you tell I don't watch enough legends whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:02:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: In which Team Flash borrows the Waverider, Iris refuses to wear a poodle skirt, and Cisco and Caitlin share a basket of fries.





	Milkshakes '51

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentMaryMargaretSkitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMaryMargaretSkitz/gifts).



> This was a prompt I wrote a while ago on tumblr but I liked it a lot so I'll post it as a separate work! <3

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Joe grumbles, holding onto the railing as Sara landed the ship. 

“Yes, well. Since I was _banned_ from time travelling using my speed for the next _five years_ ,” Barry hisses, glaring at the Legends who showed zero remorse, “We have to improvise to catch Abra Kadabra, now don’t we?” 

Cisco rolls his eyes at both Barry and Joe, flicking up the collar of his shirt at the gateway of the Waverider. “At least you don’t have to grease back all your hair.” 

“Aww,” Caitlin laughs. She reaches out to touch it, but grimaces at all the slick, wiping it discreetly on the side of the ship. 

Cisco takes the moment to appreciate her attire. She has a giant blue bow in her own hair, rocking the chiffon scarf and high ponytail. Her skirt, too…Is something else. But surprisingly, Cisco realizes, out of the lot of them, she pulls off the style the best. 

Iris walks down the platform in a very modern yellow bodysuit. 

“Uh?” Mick grunts, looking her up and down. “Aren’t you coming?” 

“Ummm. No thanks. I’m staying on the ship. I have no business being in pre-civil rights movement America.” 

“But what if we run into MLK?” says Barry. 

Joe raises his eyebrows. “In _Maine?”_

Cisco crosses his arms. “He has a point.” 

“Okay,” Sara calls over the group. “Everyone from Central City get out–Not you Mick–Oh, whatever.” 

Joe, Barry, Cisco, Mick, Ralph and Caitlin all stepped out, and Barry sped them to the city’s downtown, by the docks. A beautiful, quaint boat town seemingly both sleepy as bustling. 

“Wow,” Caitlin says, looking around and took a deep breath as the rest moved on, looking into the stores to catch their time travelling foe. “I can smell the ocean.” 

Three young fishermen in matching suspenders walked past them, eyeing Caitlin like candy. 

Yeah. He knows his best friend is a damn snack. But these men are what, eighty-five now? Ew. 

Cisco automatically puts his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. 

Caitlin’s giggles are high pitched as they walk, faking the part of a blushy girlfriend, and the three guys’ eyes widen at the pair, pulling the opposite of Cisco’s intended reaction, faces twisting with disgust. 

“Whoops,” Cisco goes, but doesn’t move his arm away. “Interracial couple. Didn’t even think about that one.” 

They quicken their pace, catching up with the group. 

“Joe and Ralph go down to the harbour while I do a quick neighbourhood hunt. Cisco, Caitlin, you two stay in town. Keep watch, see if Abra Kadabra’s been hanging in the local areas lately. We meet back in…” Barry checks his watch. “Three hours.” 

Cisco gives Caitlin a sly grin as the rest of the team split up. 

“Milkshakes?”

“Milkshakes.” 

~.~ 

They get seated at a diner, Cisco slurping through the red and white straw of his bottle glass vanilla shake, laughing at Caitlin’s evaluation of every person who jingles the entryway of the Chocolate Shop. 

“How are you not done yours yet?” he asks her, dipping his hand into their shared basket of fries to swirl one into the bottom of his shake. 

Caitlin brings her finger to her mouth, wiping off strawberry syrup from the corner of it, careful not to smudge her bright red lipstick and ignoring his questionable food combo altogether. “I’m keeping it cold, so I’ll enjoy it, unlike some people.” 

“Hey!” he defends. “These are _goooooood._ Maybe it’s homemade ice cream. Is that it? We have to make some when we get back home because this is the best I've ever had.” 

Caitlin leans over the table, dropping a frothy ball of ice shavings into his glass, and Cisco can smell the scent of her mother’s borrowed perfume. “That could be arranged.” 

Cisco’s jaw drops open. “–Did you just?!” 

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” 

“Ooooh,” Cisco chuckles, scooping it up with his straw. “That’s cold, Frosty.” He licks his lips. “Good too.” 

“Do I _look_ like Frost right now?” 

Cisco glances up, then returns to his drink. “No.”

“Hmm.” Caitlin taps her nails against the glass tabletop. “Good. I don’t want you getting us mixed up. That was me.”

“Okay…” He held her gaze, tilting his head, trying to read Caitlin. She was telling him something.

She bites her lip as she watches his tongue swipe the vanilla in the corner of his mouth. 

Woah. Okay. Wow. Hold on.

_Are they flirting?_

The waitress comes back, and Cisco’s thoughts dissolve. 

“You two doing alright?” 

“Swell,” Cisco replies, and Caitlin kicks him under the table. “Thank you.” 

“What?” he asks, once the waitress left. 

“Wrong decade! That’s too old!” 

“Oh, don’t be a wet rag, Caity-Cat," he teases her, borrowing the nickname the waitress coined her when she asked for it. 

“Don't ever call me that again," she warns. "And drop the gimmicky phrases, you’re trying too hard.” 

Cisco winks at her, leaning his arm against the back of the booth. “Let me have my fun. Hey, wanna use the jukebox?” 

Caitlin’s unamused face cracks under the pressure of Cisco’s waggling eyebrows and silly smile. She digs into her purse for vintage change that Sara gave her, and hands a coin over to Cisco. 

He deposits it and they bicker for a minute over which song to choose together. 

Its tinny audio plays and the two keep talking about nothing at all, enjoying themselves a little too much. 

And maybe it’s the scarf around Caitlin’s neck, or the striped button down Cisco had dug out of his Abuelo’s chest in the attic, but something about the two of them sitting together in the wrong time period, felt intrinsically _right._

“Caitlin,” Cisco whispered, getting her attention as she people watched some more. 

She lifted her gaze, pretty brown eyes blinking back at him. “Yeah?” 

He leans in closer and she follows, almost hypnotically, pulling her in like a magnet, and places a finger under her chin. 

“People are looking,” she says gently, and its surprising, that this is what she chooses to say. And how does she know. Her eyes hasn’t left his since he breathed her name. 

“Let them,” he murmurs, then kisses her soft. 

~.~ 

Barry crams his team back onto the Waverider like a shepherd with lost, very distracted homesick sheep. Joe, drags Abra Kadabra in meta cuffs behind them. 

“Hey. Guys,” Iris says, snapping her fingers. It takes several times. “Has anyone seen Cisco and Caitlin?” 


End file.
